


Helminth

by waxpet



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Brainwashing, M/M, Parasites, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:56:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8205958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxpet/pseuds/waxpet
Summary: Yuya is the only person Yuri's ever seen who might be able to actually defeat him-- and he wants that challenge, desperately. He might not have the right mindset just yet, but Yuri's got a parasite in his pocket that might do the trick and push Yuya over the edge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy here we go again im back at it again with worse content this time  
> pairing is onesided on yuri's side

Yuri's breath catches in his throat as he peers around the corner. He feels like a disobedient child, ditching his responsibilities to sneak himself a treat. His Standard counterpart looks nothing like him from the back. His hair is too wild, his clothes are too casual, and he wears his jacket over his shoulders like, well, a jacket. He carries himself like he doesn't know his worth.

Which is absurd in itself. Yuri has known what he is, how different he is, how far above the rest of the dimensions he is. And here's pretty little Yuya-kun, strutting around with the same powers and magnificence, completely unaware of it. _Wasting_ himself.

Yuya turns around, and Yuri ducks back behind the wall, resisting the urge to giggle. He pokes his pocket, just to make sure his stolen prize is still there. The parasite wiggles angrily, unhappy to be confined for so long. Yuri gives it a reassuring pat. The Doktor hadn't noticed Yuri pinching one of his ugly little pets, which isn't really his fault, because he isn't as smart as Yuri is. Nobody is.

Except Yuya-kun.

He's something special. Yuri's heard the rumours-- Yuya brainwashes without any need for parasites. His flashy dueling, his nonsensical babbling about _smiles_ , reaches into his opponent's head and makes them think like he does. He breaks and remakes with his dueling, and he isn't even aware that he's doing it. The Tyler sisters, the entire force still situated in the Xyz dimension, even the Commanding General, have fallen under his spell. Dueling Sora Shiunin had been like dueling an Xyz remnant with a Fusion deck. Whatever Yuya does is subtle and insidious, his ideology taking roots in the brain, growing over and through until they can't comprehend _not_ thinking like he does.

It's fascinating. Yuya is a special type of monster all on his own, and he doesn't even know it. He's the first thing Yuri has ever seen that looks like a challenge. Someone who could break him. Someone who could defeat him.

Yuri isn't going to duel him yet. First he must loosen Yuya's restraints, pluck away his ridiculous nobility and hero complex, and then he'll unleash the full brunt of the rage and hatred Yuri knows to lie under that smiling mask. When they duel, it'll be the last for both of them. Yuri will save his most dangerous opponent, the most satisfying defeat, for the very end. The two of them alone in the wreckage of what was once four dimensions.

Loud, running footsteps break Yuri from his reverie-- Yuya's on his way. Sprinting down the hall after the two bracelet girls -- Yuri doesn't know why he bothers, they're not getting fixed without brain surgery -- and he's about to pass Yuri's hidey-hole.

Yuri sticks his foot out, and just as expected, Yuya doesn't see it in his blind focus and trips right over it. He tumbles to the ground in a graceless heap, making Yuri wrinkle his nose. Why are all his counterparts so _pathetic?_

Well, he's about to fix that. Maybe Yuri will go after Yugo later, because seeing someone with his face yammer on about Rin all the time is just embarrassing.

Yuya scrambles to his feet, his eyes widening in recognition. "You!?"

"Me," Yuri agrees amiably. "Don't go anywhere, I have something important for you." His fingers dance across his duel disk's screen, tweaking and changing settings until he's allowed to slap down whatever card he wants and _summon_ it. He has to admit, while Antique Gears are nice enough, they just don't compare to his usual deck. Pulling Starve Venom's card from his extra deck feels _right._

He doesn't even bother chanting-- a waste of time, Yuya's already backing away, ready to bolt. As soon as Starve Venom materializes he senses his master's will and lunges at Yuya. Yuya shouts and attempts to jump away, but Starve Venom is bigger and faster than he is and there's not much room to dodge him in the cramped hallway. Starve Venom scoops him up easily, trapping Yuya's body from the waist down inside one of his many mouths, and presents his catch to Yuri.

"Let me go!"

Yuri doesn't bother responding to that. Yuya's panicked and confused, otherwise he wouldn't say anything so stupid. Why would Yuri let him go now that he has Yuya exactly where he wants him?

Inside his pocket, the parasite wriggles angrily. It can sense another warm body, something with a brain it can crawl into and serve its purpose in. Finally, Yuri retrieves it, and it eagerly clambers halfway up his arm before he catches it and squeezes it warningly. Yuya stares at it blankly, trying to figure out what Yuri's going to do.

"It’s not going to hurt," Yuri croons. The parasite clicks and squirms around his fingers. "Hold still."

Yuya’s eyes widen in horror and the blood drains from his face as Yuri approaches him. His struggles turn frantic, desperate, but his hands scrabble uselessly against the marble floor and his legs are firmly encased in one of Starve Venom's many mouths. Starve Venom clenches his jaw a little tighter, just enough for his teeth to dig in warningly, and Yuya stops thrashing.

Oh, how Yuri loves his dragon. Clever boy.

Yuya is visibly trembling, his eyes fixed on the vile creature in Yuri’s hand. Yuri relishes the look on his face-- sweet, sweet hopelessness. Yuri’s own face has never worn a look like that. Feeling his mouth stretch in a lazy smirk is so much more satisfying.

There’s one last desperate spark in Yuya’s eyes before he squeezes them shut and clamps his hands over his ears. "Uh-uh," Yuri chides him. His free hand traces a line up Yuya’s neck and tilts his chin up so Yuri can properly appreciate his face. He’s so cute. Defiance suits his face, but Yuri knows a hundred looks that would suit him more. He’s seen them all in the mirror.

Yuri brings the parasite right up to Yuya’s face, close enough for its tail to touch his nose. Yuya gasps and lurches backward. His vivid red eyes immediately reopen, wild and terrified and everything Yuri’s ever wanted to see. Yuri pulls the parasite away. It writhes in his hand, disappointed, and he makes sure to keep his grip tight.

"Don’t do this," Yuya says. One last ditch effort. Those pretty pretty eyes stare up at Yuri, wide and pleading, and Yuri laughs.

"Oh, Yuya," he sighs. "There isn't anything else you could have said that would have made me want to do this more."

Quick as lightning, he grabs Yuya’s right hand and yanks it from his head, and then lets the parasite go. Its gleeful clicking and chattering is almost lost under Yuya’s terrified cry. It rapidly crawls up his shoulder, and Yuya’s eyes well with tears when its cold body crams itself against his ear.

"No," he gasps. "Nononononono--"

Yuri’s face hurts from grinning as he pins Yuya’s arms still. "Shh," he breathes. "It’ll be over soon. Just focus on me."

Yuya’s cheeks are streaked with tears and his chest heaves with desperate sobs as the parasite squirms inside his head. It takes a bit for it to get in-- Yuya fights it for as long as he can; his arms go limp in Yuri’s grip when his resistance wanes. The parasite disappears inside with one last flick of its tail, and with that, Yuri’s won. He’s won.

Starve Venom obediently drops Yuya when he falls unconscious, and Yuri tenderly pulls his clone's body against his own. He brushes back a loose strand of red hair from Yuya’s face. His counterpart's skin is unnaturally pale and covered in a cold sweat, but it's soft and pliant under the tips of his fingers.

For an unknown amount of time, Yuri kneels on the ground, holding his fainted clone. He feels oddly tranquil. Lazy, smug satisfaction coils in his chest. Yuya’s going to look good in an academia uniform. He’s going to look even better smirking, his eyes bright with malice, and with his hands willingly linked with Yuri’s.

Slowly, Yuya begins to stir. When his eyes flutter open, something is terribly, terribly wrong. His brilliant red irises glow with a supernatural light as they meet Yuri's, and Yuya's lips curl into an uncharacteristic snarl.

" _You_ ," he hisses. "You should know _better_ than this."

And then his hands are around Yuri's neck.

Yuya's fingers press down, digging in at Yuri's throat, squeezing like he wants it to burst. His hold is tight and unyielding. Yuri struggles to draw in breath, but it's useless. Yuya’s as still as a statue but for the tiny tremors wracking his shoulders from the intensity with which he squeezes. Starve Venom doesn't even try to interfere; he stays still and watches silently.

He’s constricting tighter and tighter. Something’s going to break soon. Something has to break soon.

Yuya’s crushing Yuri’s windpipe, and it hurts, it _hurts_ , but Yuri could never dream of resisting him. This is the thrill of the other side of the hunt. This is the thrill of being prey; so similar to what Yuri normally feels when he’s cornered a worthy target at last and yet so different. It’s exhilarating. Yuya’s glowing, milky eyes continue to bore into Yuri’s, and his grip is merciless still, 

Yuri’s a little more than lightheaded now, and there’s an unfamiliar dizziness overtaking him, spreading out from his desperately contracting lungs. Breathing is impossible. But he doesn’t mind, not at all.

All he can do is cough weakly, hacking out the last vestiges of air in his body. It’s a stupid, counterproductive reaction, and it only makes Yuya squeeze tighter to stifle the noise. Darkness licks at the edges of Yuri’s vision. It crawls in closer, centring around Yuya, wreathing itself around him like a halo.

Yuri wonders what he looks like in Yuya’s eyes. Too much of his body has gone numb for him to feel for himself what he’s doing right now, and even if he wanted to look down at himself, he’s too transfixed by the hate in Yuya’s eyes to try. He must be kneeling still, or perhaps his legs have given out and he's not. Yuri’s smiling, or at least he thinks he is. He should be. It’s the most logical manifestation of what he’s feeling right now.

He’s going to die. He’s going to die. He’s going to die with Yuya’s hands around his neck, and Yuri can’t think of another way he’d rather go. He can feel something about to _snap_ or _pop_ or _break_ , veins and arteries displaced and squashed, muscle and ligaments almost crushed irreparably--

Yuya drops him.

Yuri collapses in a gasping heap, drawing his cape around himself as he shivers and gasps for air. Sucking in oxygen scrapes at his raw, tender throat, and his fingers are unsteady and trembling as he grips his cape. He coughs weakly, wincing as pain radiates down from his neck to his diaphragm. Vivid colours dance amongst the retreating darkness in his sight, and the roaring of his blood in his ears fades into the distant roar of dragons.

His counterpart stands and eyes Yuri coldly. "Don't try that again," he says flatly.

Yuri's mouth twists in a wide grin as he rolls himself into a half-sitting position against the wall. "I won't," he agrees, the words cutting their way up his throat like shards of glass as he chokes them out. "I'll do worse."

Yuya stares back at him with unblinking, unreadable eyes, and for a split second his expression resembles something like _impressed_ before he grunts and clutches at his forehead. His still-glowing eyes flutter shut and when they reopen they're the familiar innocent eyes Yuri remembers.

"What...?"

It takes Yuya a moment to register the scene-- he's free from the dragon, who is watching him curiously, and his Fusion counterpart is now a coughing, gasping mess on the ground. His eyes focus on Yuri's neck, and Yuri knows what he sees-- ugly, blue-black-purple handprints around his throat, and there's only one person who could have made them.

Yuya puts a hand over his mouth, pale as death, looking like he's about to be sick. Yuri cocks his head to the side and tugs his high collar down, baring more of Yuya's marks to him. Every breath aggravates them further.

"I..." It's muffled by his hand, but Yuri still hears Yuya's voice clearly. "I... I did..."

"Well," Yuri drawls, ignoring how much it hurts to do so, "it's not like I could have done it myself."

Yuya takes a single step backwards. "I'm sorry," he whispers, and then takes off running like a terrified fawn.

Yuri traces his index finger up his neck and winces. The sudden lack of pressure after being held in such a tight vice is rather painful, actually. He moves his hands into the places where Yuya’s had just been, and digs in at the forming bruises. Yuri won’t put bandages over them. He wants everyone to see the evidence that he's met his match.

He forces himself to stand on wobbling legs, and heads in the opposite direction of what Yuya took. The Doktor's headquarters is down that way, and Yuri doesn't want to spend any more time in that creepy man's presence than he has to. Besides, Yugo and the (now ex) General are looking for him, and they'll be disappointed if he doesn't show.

With one last, longing look in the direction Yuya left, Yuri goes back to what he's _actually_ meant to be doing.


End file.
